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chubbsman7
12-19-2009, 07:23 PM
Welcome to the thread I promised in my normal writing in the normal "Story" thread (bleh! I hate using the word: story!). Enjoy!

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What is the purpose of life? Is it to wander aimlessly throughout the world? Is it to pleasure people? Or is it rather, to pleasure yourself? Maybe both can be done, I wonder.

The world isn't the same place anymore. As I stare at these sheet, white walls, I wish I could go in. The doors are shut, the Palace is closed. In massive blue, block letters on the side spelling a word all to familiar to us: THE FACILITY. Everyone in the wastes knows it. The place is huge. No man (or woman) has ever been known to walk around it, fully. Some have tried, but without success. The largest span known of The Facility is over a hundred miles. And that's just trying to go around.

It's like a massive building. Built on the remains of an ancient city, once known as Indianapolis, but no-one uses that name anymore. Rather, we call the places where we live simply: The Wastes. Because they're nothing more than that; wastes. One large society lives nearby, however. It's located just a mile or so south from The Facility. Some have said the population is over ten thousand, but nobody has actually counted. That would take too long, and nobody has the patience for it either.

I turned my back, walking away from the white, metal walls. They gleamed in the blaring hot sun. I looked at the sky (sun) to see what time it was. We've all learned how to read the sky now, the time, predict weather, etc. Right now, it was only 11:00, and it was probably 90º out (Imperial), according to my educated guess.

Let me tell you about myself. My name is Amanda. I've been living in the wastes all my life. I can't say how old I am, because nobody has ever told me when or where I was born. All I can say is that I'm still in youth. Maybe in the old years, about seventeen years, but I can't say for sure. That's a total guess. Maybe I'm fourteen. Then again, maybe I'm twenty. I never know.

What I do know, is myself. My hair is a clean blonde, usually tied into a pony-tail, and about a little longer than shoulder length when let down. My skin is tanned, of course. There's very few people who aren't tan, from the hours we spend outside.

I've measured myself many ways. I've found different gauges and measuring tools. I've measured mysef to be 5 feet, 10 inches, and equally at a meter and a half. I'm skinny, weighing at a clean 110lbs, which is probably about 50 kilograms.

It's never cold. It's always steaming hot. I guess the wars have destroyed the atmospheres, and made it naturally hotter, but maybe then again, the earth is naturally getting warmer, like it did in the Ice Ages, right?

You're probably tired of listening to my ramble, now aren't you? Of course you are!

I'm walking around from The Facility now, as I'm approaching the nearing town. I work there. Doing what work I can, here and there. Including, a place known as "Don's House." You can guess, I think.

It's a bar, obviously. I don't drink though, I find it repulsive. I've had very few tastes of alcohol in this life, and I don't intend to have any more than that, as it tastes bitter and disgusting.

And now I'm walking into the door of the building. It's made out of white concrete, with scraps of metal plastered over it for insulation. The place is suprisingly one of the nicest places in town. I hear it serves the best beer in town, but I think I've already explained my opinion on that to you.

I walk inside to meet the dimming florescent lights. Three or so Pool tables are laying inside, with a group of men playing different kinds of games: Billiards, normal Pool, and other various extensions of the such.

Me? I'm wearing my normal outfit. A tight leather-like jacket over a thin, white tank top with a matching pair of tight, light blue jeans.

"Hey! Barbie!" I heard a man exclaim from behind me, as I was walking into the main part of the bar.

"Don't call me barbie, fuck-face." I replied viciously.

"Whoa, Barbie. Now that's mean... Can't be like that to a customer, now can we?" He replied with a grin.

"No. I said Fuck Off, Andrew." I tried to defend myself.

"Oh, now you know everyone just calls me Andy... With a pretty face like that though, I can understand why your being so..." He paused with a grin. "Is rude the right word?" He added.

"I said... Fuck. Off."

"Okay, geez pretty lady. No need to get... fiesty." He grinned an almost black, toothy grin."

"DAN!" I screamed at him, attracting a lot of attention.

"Yeeees?" He replied, smiling at the attention.

"Fuck. Off. You fucking sick bastard." I angrily replied.

Let me start with Andrew. He's a fucking evil bastard. He kills people for pleasure. And doesn't do just that for pleasure. I know other workers here who were unfortunate enough to... Yeah. His smile is almost as bad as his black, evil soul. He always carries around a 9mm, as I always carry around a .44. You could say we have a mutual agreement to stay away from me, as I'm the best shot (for a woman) in town.

"Don!" I took a seat on the bar stool as a pudgy man waddled my way.

"And how may I serve you, Miss?" He kindly replied.

Don is the kind of guy everybody needs. Kind, sweet, but when pissed off can be the most dangerous guy you could ever fuck around with. Hint: Don't fuck around with him.

"I need drink, just water. Thanks."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He answered, as he placed a bottle on the bar.

"Anything else?" He asked me.

"Yeah." I thought to myself. "Get fuck-face outta here, next time I come in to work.

"No problem, sweetheart. Might take some work next time, but I'll do it!"

"Thanks, Don. Your a peach." I thanked him.

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That's the first part of this part of the Writing; The Facility: Outside.

Reviews are accepted, just don't be a douchebag/dick and flame, because nobody likes flaming douchebags/dicks.

chubbsman7
12-20-2009, 09:12 PM
"Ah, it's nothin'." He sweetly replied.

I sipped my water. It tasted strange, like everything else in the Wastes, though. Gulp after gulp, it wetted my throat, as I mentally prepared myself for my shift.

"Honey, your on in... T-minus three minutes. Ready?" Don spoke up and asked me.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'll get ready." I answered his question, quickly.

I removed myself from my current seat on the barstool and walked in the back/employee's lounge. my locker was #40. Not that there were forty lockers, that's just a locker with the number 40 on it that they scrounged up, probably from an old school, or something similar.

I did the usuall. I let my hair loose, removed my jacket and shirt, along with my jeans and shoes. A normal day.

"Hey!" I heard a familiar, feminine voice cry out as someone walked into the employee's room.

"Hey, Chelsea." I instinctively replied.

"Oh, your good. You working too?" She questioned me.

"Yeah, you?" I asked back.

"Yup. I got table six today."

"And I got table twelve." I paused, thinking for a second. "Hey, are you doing anything after work?" I continued.

"Nope. You?" She questioned me back.

"Nope." I mimicked back. "Wanna hang out, after work, maybe?" I hopefully asked.

"Sure thing, honey." She paused, as well. "Well, I'm supposed to be out there just about now. Siya!" She walked out of the door.

I followed her, a moment later. Walking out of the swinging doors, drawing the attention of several customers.

I walked over to my table, twelve. It was actually my favorite table to work at. It seemed to get a lot of people to it, but I'm not sure why.

As I hopped up on the table, a young, clean-cut man approached me.

"Are you working today?" He asked in a very strange accent. Everything was... Articulated very carefully, like he was trying to mimic someone, or some accent. He was doing a very good job, but he wasn't deceiving to me.

"Yeah, how much you willing to pay?" I quickly asked, hopeing for the best.

"Oh, say thirty dollars for ten minutes... Is that good with you?" He quickly added.

His hair was combed over to the side, and he had a strange pair of glasses. They looked... very modern. Lightly black rimmed, and a concave lens, I could tell.

"That's plenty, dear." I sweetly called him out. "Just have a seat, and enjoy." I added.

He took a seat on the nice, leather chair behind him, and I immediately moved onto him.

First, I almost climbe on top of him, pushing my breasts in his face, while I ran my hand down his chest and unzipping his shirt.

"Say..." He pushed me off. An unexpected move on his behalf. "Come back to my place. It'll be great... I know some... people. What do you say?" He asked me.

"Well..." I thought for a moment. We sometimes had customers like this, and I had 'taken care of' a few, but not as well paying as him, I don't think. "What will I get out of it?" I asked, being as cute as possible.

"Depends." He looked up, as if looking for the right words. "Depends. First, you'll have a good time, and a few crisp dollars in your pocket... usually upwards of seventy dollars..." He grinned. He had me. "Just follow me."

The man zipped his jacket back up, and started walking near the exit.

"Hey, Don!" I called out to him. "I have an assignment. I'll be back later." I told him. You can guess what 'assignments' are, of course.

"Gotcha, honey. Siya later." He consented my leave.

I saw the man walk out the door, and I reached for a red, silky robe hanging right inside the Employee's Room. It was for... emergencies, like this.

"Wait up!" I yelled to the guy, who was moving fast.

"How do you like her?" He stopped by a shining, clean car. "It's my baby. Take care of her like I take care of everything else..." He glanced at me, suggestively. "Come on, let's go."

I climbed into the seat of the car. It was comfy, with leather seats in it.

(By the way, cars in this period are very rare, especially a nice one, like this one. It's a mustang!)

He started the vehicle up, and it roared loudly for a moment.

We drove off a little bit. We passed the huge dome of The Facility. "It's right up here, hun." He pointed off into the distance, as a small building (compared to The Facility, tiny!) rose from the scenery.

A few seconds later, we were sitting right next the building.

"Come on in." He politely goaded me in.

The room had a pleasant scent to it, like roses on a warm Summer morning.

"Welcome... To my palace."

Looking4somename
12-23-2009, 05:56 AM
Interesting story. It caught my liking. Keep it up.

DHK-eh
02-09-2010, 05:20 PM
this is good, interesting to see if this and your other facility will collide, i hope you update this eventually

person on get dare!
02-09-2010, 08:01 PM
good story please continue!

btw am i seeing a fallout 3 refrence here?? =)

chubbsman7
02-09-2010, 08:13 PM
To answer your question, yes, this is a Fallout Reference, sort of. It's in a post-apocalyptic world, except more realistic. Realistically everybody would die a few weeks after the post-apocalyptic world.

That's from watching the documentary series "Life After People."

...And I'll eventually post something in this thread, soon. I just haven't had time lately.

person on get dare!
02-16-2010, 05:56 PM
haha please do... although trufully i am gonna like die if u dont add to the normal "the facility" soon! lol!